


The Company We keep

by holmeswatson221B



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Don't forget Mary, Emotional Sherlock, Eventual Johnlock, Everyone has a POV apparently, Finding home, First Kiss, Fluff, I'm bad at tags, John has had enough, Johnlock Fluff, Mary POV, Mary makes mistakes, POV John Watson, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock reveal, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, john doesn't know what to do, playing dangerous games, the boys really do love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:24:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6732112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmeswatson221B/pseuds/holmeswatson221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is back from the dead and interrupts John as he is about to propose to Mary. (Reveal and conversation post reveal follows the Empty Hearse and then it goes another way.) Sherlock struggles about how to make it up to John. Old feelings come back up for both John and Sherlock. Mary doesn't like that one bit. She tries to fix the problem. </p><p>(I'm really bad at summaries.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second Johnlock fan fiction. I'm not great at summaries and will be adding more tags as the story progresses. Not beta'd or Brit picked. 
> 
> I welcome any and all comments and story suggestions. I have an idea where I want this to go but I am as always flexible. 
> 
> I will update as often as possible.

The Company We Keep

Chapter One

John POV

It was as if time had stopped for John Watson. He was in a fancy French restaurant, moments away from proposing to his girlfriend, when Sherlock Bloody Holmes revealed himself after 3 long years. 3 long years that he was supposed to have been dead. John had held on as much hope as he could that his best friend had not killed himself. He defended Sherlock’s name long after the press had stopped bothering with the detective. He had moved on finally a few months ago after finally accepting what everyone else seemed to know, that Sherlock Holmes was dead and was not coming back. And once again Sherlock was turning his world upside down. 

After Sherlock tried to explain the reason why he had to do what he did and Mary declared that she was actually fond of Sherlock, John needed air. Some space alone to think about all of this. He initially took a cab home with Mary to their flat but he knew that he needed to get away from there as well. Not that Mary was being pushy, he just needed to think clearly without having to worry about anyone’s feelings right now. He kissed Mary goodbye and took a duffle bag with a few days worth of clothes. He checked into a hotel somewhere between his flat and Baker Street. John would later think of the irony of this.

John sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. How had his life come to this again? He seemed to be standing on the cusp of something and it was time once again to decide where he would go. Would he stay with Mary and forget all about his life of adventure with Sherlock? Or would he be once more pulled by the thrill of the chase and leave the life in suburbia before he even got there? He thought of Mary. Sweet, funny, kind Mary. She had brightened up his life when he was caught in the depression of wishing Sherlock was alive but coming to terms with the fact he did actually die on the concrete in front of Bart’s. With Mary, he was starting to think of settling down, starting a family,maybe start up his own practice. To do the things that proper men do when they reach his age.It’s the life that Mary dreamed of and deserved. Certainly chasing serial killers and thieves through the streets of London was not what a respectable retired army Doctor did.

John’s thoughts turned to Sherlock. He was so angry and at the same time so relived and happy that Sherlock came back. He was angry that Sherlock left and didn’t tell him. He would’ve followed Sherlock to the end’s of the Earth hunting down Moriarty's men. He was relieved both to have his friend back and that Sherlock survived such an ordeal to make it back to him. This also caused bigger problems for John. He knew long before Sherlock fell that his feelings for the detective were no longer platonic. He had fallen deeply in love. He always hid this fact as best he could for so many reasons, but mostly because Sherlock would never feel the same way. Sherlock didn’t do relationships. John was fortunate enough to be counted amongst the very very few friends that Sherlock Holmes had in his life and he would be arsed if he was going to ruin that by overwhelming Sherlock with emotion. He wasn’t entirely sure that Sherlock was able to comprehend what being in love truly was and it seemed unlikely that it would be something that Sherlock would be a willing participant too. After all, didn’t he say that sentiment was a chemical defect found in the losing side?

John laid back on the bed as the waves of emotion just rolled over him. He was suddenly exhausted and could barely keep his eyes open. He had resolved that he needed to see Sherlock, without Mary, and talk. The last thought in his mind was that he would go to Baker Street the next morning and see him. John feel into a fitful yet dreamless sleep.

 

Sherlock POV

Sherlock paced around 221B furiously. How could he have been so stupid to think that John would have just been waiting for him? Why would he? Sherlock wasn’t able to contact him to even give him an indication he was alive until the last of Moriarty’s men were taken care of. He couldn’t risk anything happening to John, Mrs Husdon, or Lestrade. He had endured torture enough for a lifetime on this mission and he wasn’t going to make a mistake in the 11th hour before he was finally able to return home to John with Moriarty no long being a threat to them. John had no idea for all of this time his life was in danger and that it was down to Sherlock to keep him safe. John had no idea about a lot of things. 

Sherlock shuddered thinking of John with that woman. Mary. His John with anyone else was just ridiculous. And there was something about Mary that Sherlock didn’t trust. She was hiding something that Sherlock was unable to deduce. Likely because of the situation he was not at the top of his game. He just didn’t know what to do about getting John back. Sherlock struggled with feeling like he didn't have the right to disrupt John’s life again. Maybe he should just try to forget about the army Doctor. Maybe this is what that asinine quote about loving something and letting it go meant. 

Sherlock fell back into his chair unceremoniously. When did he even fall in love with John? How, after so long of protecting himself by shutting off all emotion, did this seemingly unassuming, ordinary man find his way into Sherlock’s heart? There was no denying after examining the data, he was indeed in love with his blogger. And not just a passing crush or physical attraction. He knew that this was all much deeper than that. From the moment he laid eyes on John, he knew there was something different about him but after that first case, he not only killed a man to save Sherlock, he stayed. John Hamish Watson did not run when Sherlock became his arrogant, insulting, cruel self. Instead, John tried to understand. He saw the man behind the mask. He refused to ever believe Sherlock when he declared himself to be a high functioning sociopath. 

Sherlock realized, he couldn’t delete John even if he tried, which he wasn’t wont to do. John brought him back to his humanity. A side he hadn’t seen in a very,very long time. He would deny it to everyone who asked, but he liked better the man he had become thanks to John. He smirked to himself as he realized he was just too selfish to ever let John go without a fight. He was Sherlock Holmes for God’s sake. Ultimately, he would do as John wished but he couldn’t let go without trying. He didn’t even know if John loved him back as he insisted to anyone who listened that he was not gay. But something about having John even in just close proximity, living at Baker Street with him would be enough. It would have to be. He needed John more than he was willing to admit. He knew it was wrong on some level to try to make John remain single just because he wanted him around but Sherlock didn’t care. He was more than willing to offer whatever physical assistance he could for John’s needs and companionship would not be a problem at all. 

Now how to handle talking to John when he was still reeling from learning that Sherlock had to lie to him about dying? Sherlock was out of his depth. This was most definitely a 3 patch problem. It would be a 7% solution problem but he wouldn’t turn to drugs. As John would tell him, it’s not okay. More than a bit not good.

Sherlock escaped into his mind palace, going to the wing dedicated to John. He had carefully built up this place while he was away. Mind Palace John and the memories were all that kept him going through. Maybe Mind Palace John would be able to help him figure out what to do about Real Life John.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John goes to Baker Street to talk to Sherlock but has more realizations about his feelings before the conversation ever takes place. 
> 
> Still building the scene a bit here. Some fluffy stuff too. I promise it's going to pick up soon. Thanks for bearing with me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for more scene building but it's needed. The story will pick up soon!!! I'm trying to make the POV changes clear because while it makes sense in my head, I don't want it to be too confusing.
> 
> I've added more tags to the story. And will keep adding tags and characters as I go. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! Comments welcome!

John’s POV

John stood in front of the familiar green door of 221B Baker Street. No where else had ever felt like home so much to John as this flat did. John’s parents died when he was young and he had a strained relationship with his sister at best. He went from the residence halls at school, to the barracks, and then the bedsit when he was discharged home. It seemed for the better part of his life he lived in temporary housing, always ready to move at a moments notice. 221B was more permanent and it was so hard for him to leave when he finally moved out a few months ago, even though it was hard to be there without Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson filled the mother role for him in ways he didn’t know he needed. She doted on him and Sherlock. He missed that. Even though he was aware Sherlock’s parents were alive, he didn’t know how involved he was with them or much about his family aside from Mycroft. Of course, Sherlock was there. John felt infinitely more comfortable when Sherlock was around. John swallowed hard as he realized that he never felt at home as much in his flat with Mary. It was a nice, bright flat that felt homey but he still felt like a guest. Like he didn’t quite belong there. But if he didn’t belong there and he wasn’t sure if he belonged here anymore, where did John belong? He must have been staring at the door for quite sometime because he suddenly heard Sherlock’s voice from the window “For Godsake’s John, the door isn’t going to magically open if you stare at it long enough. Come in already!” Taking a deep breath and bracing himself as he had so many times in his army days to deal with whatever may come, John entered 221B.

Sherlock’s POV

Sherlock watched John staring at the door. Why didn’t he just come in? Doesn’t he know this is his home too? It was breaking Sherlock’s heart to see the pain and confusion on John’s face. Almost like he was lost and couldn’t find his way home. It was one more emotion that Sherlock didn’t know how to deal with an one more realization about how much he hurt John. This whole endeavor was all about sentiment and Sherlock was so far out of his depth. He could handle being uncomfortable for John. Sherlock didn’t expect to see him this morning but he was pleased to see him walking down Baker Street like he had so many times before. This time was different obviously. Sherlock had yet to formulate a plan on how to get John to forgive him. Mind Palace John just told him to let John talk and be patient with him. Neither of these are Sherlock’s strong suits but if it meant having a chance to bring John home, he would learn. Sherlock resolved to himself that no matter what happened, what was said, he would leave himself open to John. He would not put up his shields. He needed John to know how sorry he was and how much he meant to Sherlock. It would be difficult. After a painfully long time, Sherlock finally called down to John to stop staring at the door and come in already. He braced himself for whatever John had to throw at him. He was hoping that there wouldn’t be anymore physical abuse, the wounds on his back were still healing. He would take whatever John had to do but he really hoped that bit would be over.

Third Person POV

John entered the flat into the sitting room. Everything was just as he left it when he moved out a few months ago. He didn’t expect it to have changed and yet it still felt different. He stopped near the door.

“John.”

“Sherlock.”

That was all that was said by way of a greeting between the two men. Their eyes locked and to any bystander it would look as though they were having a staring contest but John and Sherlock rarely needed words to communicate with each other. Volumes were being spoken in that silence. Sherlock studied John’s eyes. Those emerald green gems that seemed to hold the world in them. He saw that John was angry, hurt, relieved, happy, confused, and there was so much grief still present even though Sherlock had come back. He had seen the aftermath of his jump on John. In the rare occasion his mission brought him back to London, he did check on John and could see that he had withered in that time. Lost several pounds from his average frame. Pounds that Sherlock had worked so hard to get him to gain when they first met. When John discharged home, living in a bedsit, feeling useless, and unsure where he had belonged. Whether John ever actually was aware of his own PTSD related eating disorder, Sherlock wasn’t sure but he made sure that John ate anytime he said he was hungry. Sherlock wasn’t much for eating himself. His transport just didn’t require that much. John’s face aged with heavy lines of worry and sadness.

John in turn looked at Sherlock. The grey blue eyes that were normally shielded against scrutiny were open for John to read. He saw the sadness, hurt, concern, exhaustion, and something else. John couldn’t quite put his finger on the that last one. Had it been anyone else, he would have said love and longing but this was Sherlock and that didn’t make sense. John noticed that Sherlock’s already lanky frame had gotten smaller. The posh dress shirts that Sherlock usually wore hung loosely on him. John had always laughed to himself that one of those days they buttons were going to give up the struggle as they often were pulled taunt across Sherlock’s chest. This was no longer the case and this made John cringe. His cheekbones more pronounced and his eyes a bit more sunken in. His normally inky black curls had lost their luster. Where ever Sherlock had been, he had taken worse care of himself then he ever did before. John didn’t know Sherlock when he was addicted to drugs but suddenly he could imagine what he may have looked like. 

Sherlock was the first to break the silence. “John, I have to apologize for so much. I’m sorry first and foremost for putting you through all of that. If I had any other choice that would have saved you and caused you less pain, believe me, I would have taken it. I’m so sorry for all the years your had to endure, defending a ghost. And I’m sorry for how I chose to tell you I was alive. In hindsight, it was extremely insensitive of me. I thought to try to make it a humorous surprise but I see that upon delivery, it was poorly thought out. I know it will take a lot of time, but I endeavor to make it all up to you. I hope someday you are able to forgive me.”

John took a deep breath and then surprised Sherlock with a small smile. “Sherlock.” John paused after saying his name for a moment, as if not entirely sure what was about to come out of his mouth. He shocked them both when he took a few steps forward and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders in a warm embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for having a terrible reaction last night. Yes it was shocking and the last thing I expected at that moment. I waited for years for some word, some action, anything that said you were still alive and it finally happened and I-I just couldn’t control myself. Sherlock, I need to understand why. I know you and this isn’t something that you would’ve undertaken lightly. I know your intention was never to cause me this much pain, but I need to understand, please.”

Sherlock closed his eyes in relief for a moment, relishing the tender embrace. He wrapped his arms around the shorter man. Sherlock knew this wasn’t forgiveness but it was a step in the right direction. Very rarely did he find himself in the position to be touching John in such a manner so he wasn’t going to rush it.

At that moment, Mrs. Hudson came into the flat carrying a tray with tea and biscuits. She put the tray down on the table. She looked into the sitting room and saw the two men wrapped up in a hug and she smiled broadly. Her appearance in the flat didn’t alarm them and they didn’t break the embrace for another minute. “My boys. Oh my boys, it's so good to have you back together. Just as it should be.” She walked towards them and pulled them both into a tight embrace. For the usual gusto which Mrs. Hudson dealt with all things related to “her boys” she was very subdued. A true look of relief on her face that the two men had come back together. She could clearly see that there was a lot of tension between them. Based on Sherlock’s behavior the night before, she knew there would be lots of talking and probably shouting before the day was done. Never before had she walked into 221B to find the men wrapped up in each other’s arms as if they were each a life preserver for the other. “You boys have a lot to talk about. I’ve left tea and nibbles.” She smiled once more with tears in her eyes. Both men grinned as they heard her softly humming as she left the apartment.

Sherlock gestured with an arm towards their chairs as an invitation to sit. Not that he wanted to rush the warm feelings in the flat but he knew it needed to happen. He had hope for the first time since he came back that things might work out and John might come home. For that to happen, they needed to get this over with. John turned to hang his coat on the hook by the door and Sherlock poured their tea and brought over the plate of biscuits to sit on the table by their chairs. As they sat down and got settled for what would surely be a difficult conversation, John couldn’t help but feeling like this felt right. He was still angry and hurt but at the same time, the hug, the doting by Mrs. Hudson, sitting across from Sherlock in their chairs as they had done so very many times before, it filled his heart with a sense of peace that he had been missing. Like he had finally come home after a war he didn’t know he was fighting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John talk about the fall and realize how much they mean to each other. Both want to make the leap but still hesitate.
> 
> **mostly dialogue**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments!
> 
> I'm really enjoying writing this fic and it's been an awesome and needed distraction while I've been waiting for a few things to fall into place.

“Ask away, John. Any questions you have, I will answer as truthfully as possible. I have nothing to hide from you.”

“Tell me why, Sherlock. Why did you have to pretend to die?”

Sherlock took a deep breath. “John, as you will you remember from the pool incident, Moriarty needed me out of the way but he wasn’t content to just kill me, he wanted to BURN me as he said. What he meant was to make sure that no one believed in me anymore, to watch everything I’ve worked for fall away and make those most important to me stop trusting me as well. I was meant to see all of this before he killed me. He set the wheels in motion with kidnapping those children and making it seem that I was the kidnapper. That pushed Donovan and Anderson to go to the Chief Superintendent about me. How did I always manage to solve the unsolvable? That was the easy part for Moriarty. Those two idiots never liked me anyway. But that forced Lestrade to doubt himself for trusting me as he had all those years. Even though he knew my methods and even knew Mycroft was capable of the same, it started to eat away at him. He never said as much but I could see it in his face. Unfortunately when I grabbed that gun and ran, it made him believe even more he had been wrong about me. Lestrade played right into Moriarty’s hand. Can’t blame him though, presented with the evidence as it was unfolding, I wouldn’t have believed in me anymore either. I knew he would never have turned Mrs. Hudson even though he knew how important she is to me. Her blind faith in me was stronger than anything Moriarty's could have shown her. And then you.” Here Sherlock paused and bit his lip before continuing. “He started to make you doubt me, even just a little. I don’t blame you for questioning me, John. You had only known me a short time and you had only ever been warned about me. I’m surprised it took that as much as it did for even just a small amount of doubt to creep in. That's when I had a strong suspicion this was going to have to end with my “death”. He went global so to speak with the whole Richard Brook story and it made everyone else believe that I committed all those crimes myself before solving them. Then the meeting on the roof of Bart’s. Moriarty told me that he had snipers pointed at you, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson. There were two ways to stop them. Moriarty had a code word to use to call them off or they had to see me fall. Before I could get the code word from him, he shot himself in the head. The only way to save you all was to jump.”

“Sherlock, there was never a doubt in my mind you were anything other than the brilliant many you have always been. I have always believed in you and tried to clear your name the whole time you were gone. I played devil’s advocate with myself. To ask why I was willing to just believe in you fully when there was so much adding up trying to say you weren’t who I knew you were, call it loyalty, call it stupidity, call it whatever you want too but I’ve never believed in anyone or anything as much as I believed and do believe in you.”

Sherlock looked surprised for moment. Maybe he should have questioned more when he thought John was starting to doubt him. He chastised himself for his own sentimentality. Ultimately, believing John doubted him helped Sherlock keep him safe. He would never regret that. His voice heavy with emotion he said, “Thank you, John.”

John thought for a moment about his next question, “But after you stopped the snipers, why didn’t you come back then? Where have you been for 3 years?”

“I had to eliminate the threat all together. Even if those snipers were fooled, Moriarty’s network was vast and other threats would pop up in their place. I needed to make sure you would be safe. With Mycroft’s help I staged the fall in a way I could survive and Molly assisted as I needed a man inside the hospital as well. For some reason, Moriarty didn’t target Molly so I was able to use her as an asset. Please don’t be upset with her. She suffered watching all of you and being unable to say anything. Had she, she would have compromised all of this. Of course, Mycroft provided me with Intel as to where to go to dismantle the whole network. As I was technically dead, I needed to be discreet as well as thorough. For the most part I was abroad, though on extremely rare occasions, I came back to London. Would you like to know how I survived?”

“I don’t need to know that. I’m sure it was very clever but that's not important. Why couldn’t you have told me? I would’ve gone with you and helped you. You get yourself into enough trouble here, I can’t imagine the danger you were in out there.”

“If you had died too, or just suddenly disappeared, that would have raised suspicions to the remaining leaders of the network. It would have made everything far more dangerous. I’m so sorry, John. But you needed to appear to have nothing to do with this or to appear to have any knowledge I was alive. The most effective way to do this, was to make it true.”

Sherlock paused. He leaned forward and looked John directly in the eyes. “John, you have to understand. If I needed to actually die in order to keep you safe, I would not have hesitated one moment. My last living thought would be the comfort of knowing that you would survive. Surely you know how important you are to me?”

John felt tears burning in his eyes and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He tried to speak but his voice cracked at the first syllable, he simply nodded. From the first case it was clear that both men would kill for each other but it wasn’t until the pool that they both realized they would die for each other as well. Sherlock put a hand on John’s knee and John shakingly covered it with his own. John took a few deep breaths, trying to regain his composure but he was losing the battle. He stood up, cleared this throat, and indicated he needed a minute. He walked quickly down the hall to the loo. 

John POV

As he leaned against the sink, a small sob broke through. Looking up to his reflection in the mirror, John shook his head to himself. ‘Get it together, Watson.’ He thought to himself. He knew this would be a difficult conversation but he had almost wished Sherlock was his usual arrogant, matter of fact self. John knew how to handle that version of Sherlock. But this time, Sherlock let his own emotions show through while he explained everything. His heart bared in his eyes. John didn’t know how to handle this. He wanted to wrap his arms around Sherlock and somehow make it go away. John didn’t even try to convince himself otherwise, he knew he forgave Sherlock for all of it. John splashed his face with cold water and tried to compose himself before going back out into the flat. 

Sherlock POV

He watched John walk down the hall. Sherlock didn’t know how he himself managed to hold it together while telling the story. He could normally detach himself from sentiment but for John, he didn’t this time. Watching John’s face as he made his revelations was extremely difficult. Watching the pain, sadness, fear, grief, and maybe understanding course through John’s face was more difficult than Sherlock ever expected. He just wanted to pull John close and make him feel safe and loved. John Watson was most definitely loved and because of this, Sherlock made sure he was also safe. Sherlock went to the kitchen to put on the kettle. They had finished the pot that Mrs. Hudson brought up and he was sure they could both do with another cuppa. 

Third Person POV

John walked into the kitchen and saw Sherlock busying himself with the kettle and mugs. “Since when do you make tea?” he chuckled warmly.

“Well, John, if you must know, no other country in the world, save for Asia, understands the meaning of a good cup of tea. When the opportunity arose I could make myself a decent cup, I did.” Sherlock offered him a small smirk. 

John reached out to open the fridge to get the milk and paused. “Sherlock. I don’t know how long you were back in the flat before you told me you were alive. You didn’t restock on body parts did you?”

“I came to you straight away, John. I didn’t come back here till after. Thankfully, Mrs. Hudson had had her evening soother by then so she took me walking through the door better than expected. She restocked the fridge with food early this morning.” Sherlock almost looked disappointed by the lack of body parts.

The two men looked at each other and started laughing. The air around them had been so heavy, this felt right. Their normal bantering. They had both missed it immensely. Once they were able to stop laughing, they finished making tea and sat at the kitchen table. Ignoring the elephant in the room for now, they started talking: John catching Sherlock up on what had been happening with their group of friends over the past few years. Sherlock telling about the interesting people he met abroad during his mission and the insufferable things Mycroft had done while he was gone. As they passed the evening chatting away and getting their favorite take away, they decided to watch a few episodes of Dr. Who. It was the one show that kept Sherlock entertained enough to follow and not completely tear apart as they watched. He had missed quite a lot while he was away. It wasn’t until several episodes later, when Sherlock and John were dosing off on the couch, that Mary finally crossed John’s mind. As he felt Sherlock cover him with the throw from the couch, he decided he could call Mary tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary has a plan to get Sherlock out of the way and have John to herself but unfortunately for her, sentiment gets in the way. 
> 
> Finally some action!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging in there with me to this point. Things are moving faster now and there is some fluff and lovely feels coming in the next chapter.

Mary POV

Now just because John hadn't given Mary a thought during his day with Sherlock, didn’t mean that Mary hadn’t been thinking about him. More accurately, Mary was thinking about Sherlock. Who did that bloody arsehole think he was showing up like that? Mary had waited to long to ease her way into John Watson’s life to be forgotten about because of Sherlock Bloody Holmes. Mary thought back to the first time she laid eyes on John. Through the sniper scope of her rifle at the pool. Moriarty always had to be so dramatic. As an assassin, she was generally able to separate herself from her targets but she was quite taken with the doctor when she first laid eyes on him. Mary chuckled to herself, ‘love at first sight, if I didn’t have to kill him.’ Mary was relieved when Moriarty signaled that there was no need to kill Sherlock and John at the time. Well, she could give two shites about Sherlock, but she was happy that John would live. Maybe they could have coffee sometime she had thought then.

Then Moriarty again with the dramatics, wanted her to get close with the Doctor to see what information she could get from Sherlock. Mary was fairly certain that Moriarty had discovered her attraction to John and was testing her loyalty. John might have been a nice dish but Mary had long ago learned not to bite the hand that feeds you. She wouldn’t have turned against Moriarty. Then he went and shot himself in the head before the plan of her infiltrating ever took place. She waited a decent amount of time before pursuing John, just in case Moriarty had been faking it. She had heard whispers of the network being dismantled but there was never anything concrete, until now. All things being what they were, she was pretty low level in the network, she was listed only by code initials in one file. A.G.R.A. Even she didn’t know what it stood for. But who was she to nag about Moriarty’s filing system?

Mary had been looking forward to putting all the cloak and dagger escapades behind her and have a nice domestic life (with the occasional contract on the side but John didn’t ever need to know about it). However, now Mary was angry. She had to find a way to get rid of Sherlock. He should have just stayed dead. He was not going to get between her and John, even if it killed him. 

It was easy enough to hack into the cameras that Mycroft Holmes had hidden in 221B Baker Street. Honestly, the British government should consider some type of security. She had a strong suspicion when John left the night Sherlock came back, he would find his way to Baker Street. She wasn’t surprised the next morning when she saw him on the CCTV cameras standing outside the door. The audio was crap inside the flat but she was able to read the body language, John and Sherlock were definitely more than just friends and flatmates, even if neither had admitted it yet. It would only be a matter of time before Mary was dismissed and those two got HER happy ever after story. By the time they had fallen asleep leaning on each other watching the Telly, she had a plan in mind to eliminate Sherlock for good this time. 

Two Days Later  
Third Person POV

Sherlock very discreetly snuck out of the flat. While he had told those who mattered he was back, it was not yet common knowledge. He was headed to Scotland Yard to see Lestrade about some cold cases when he saw a black sedan waiting for him, a young female with her face buried in her phone. 

“Where’s Anthea?” He said to the woman. 

“Bit of time off, I’m filling in. Shall we?” The woman responded never looking up at Sherlock.

Sherlock eyed her suspiciously for moment and then said “After you,” gesturing towards the car. The woman got into the passenger seat and quietly whispered something Sherlock couldn’t quite make out to the driver.

“What does Mycroft want now? Doesn’t he know I’m busy?” Sherlock tried to sound annoyed.

“I’m sure I don’t know, sir.” 

Sherlock pulled his phone out of his pocket and kept it low in the seat to avoid drawing attention to himself. He feigned looking out the window having a sulk because his brother was tearing him away from his day.

‘Being kidnapped as we speak. They want me to believe I’m going to see you. Not very smart, haven’t taken my phone away. Please track my phone and contact Lestrade and John with my location. –SH’

‘Brother dear, you’ve only been alive for 3 days, couldn’t keep yourself out of trouble? Phone is being tracked, notifications being sent. Do try to stay safe until the Calvary arrives. –MH’

‘I certainly endeavor too, brother mine. We did eliminate the entire network, correct? –SH’

‘Quite so. I’m not sure who you’ve managed to annoy this time. –MH’

‘About to find out. We’ve stopped. –SH’

The car stopped in front of an old warehouse. And the woman got out of the car with her face still buried in her phone, and indicated Sherlock should go in. After a quick glance of his surroundings, he went through the open bay door to meet his kidnapper. He could see the shadow of someone ahead of him but it wasn’t until he got much closer that he could make out who the person was.

“This is quite a turn-up, isn’t it, Sherlock?” Mary taunted.

“I see we had a friend in common. Work for Jim for long?”

“I was at the pool, Sherlock. Just one of those little red dots that could have ended it for you. But Moriarty just had to give the signal to leave you be. But now you are in MY way, Sherlock. I won’t let you take John away from me. I’ve worked too hard and waited too long for you to just stroll back into his life. You really should’ve stayed dead. I don’t share, Sherlock. And I won’t let you have him. It’s time for you to go back to being dead. But please, let me make sure you do it right this time.” She sneered and raised a gun to him.

"You think killing me will make John love you? Hmmm. Possible. I can be rather difficult at times. He’s threatened to do it himself more than once. It would be rather ambitious of you to try though, I couldn’t even successfully kill me.”

“I’m very good at what I do, I assure you, you will be dead for real this time. Best of all, John won’t know it was me. As you’ve pointed out many time to anyone who will listen, Scotland Yard would be useless without you and I’m very good at covering my tracks. I haven’t been connected to a single hit yet.”

"There’s always something. I knew I was missing something that night I met you but I assumed it was because of everything else going on. Not that you were actually trying to hide something. Well done. You almost got away with it. Shame that you’ll finally be caught without actually getting your man.”

Mary looked confused, “How will I be caught? You are standing right here and no one knows where you are. I’m about to shoot you. I’ll be long gone before anyone even realized you are missing.”

“Oh, Mary, how dull. You thought this all through with your heart and not your head, which is why you will be caught. You are supposed to be a bloody clever assassin. First of all, my brother pulls this act of whisking someone away to Intimidate other people, not to me. Honestly, think it through. Why would Mycroft need to pull some intimidation tactic with his own brother? He hasn’t intimidated me since I’ve been out of nappies. Secondly, Anthea having a bit of time off? You honestly think Mycroft gives that poor woman a holiday? And to that end, whoever your accomplice’s are need some serious guidance on how to perform a kidnapping. They left me with my mobile and didn’t even sit in the back with me to make sure I couldn’t use it. These are all beginner’s mistakes, Mary.”

Mary’s eyes widened as she heard a gun cock next to her head. She turned slowly to see John with a murderous look on his face and his gun pointed at her. “John! I-I-“ She stammered

“Save it, Mary. This is done. Put down your gun.”

“Don’t you see? He tried to take you away from me. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“You know what I went through when he died the first time and you would have me suffer it a second time knowing that he wouldn’t be able to come back. Clearly, I meant nothing to you if you were willing to inflict that on me. I’ll tell you again to drop your weapon. I have killed for this man before and I will not hesitate to do so again.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, John.” Detective Inspector Lestrade warned. 

The room suddenly swarming with police officers. Mary, looking defeated and heartbroken, dropped the gun she was holding and raised her hands behind her head. She was quickly taken into custody by Sergeant Donovan. After Sherlock and John gave their statements, they got into a cab headed to Baker Street. They were silent the whole ride home and Sherlock kept looking over to check on John but his face was unreadable.

A few minutes later, they entered the flat. John sat down in his chair and buried his face into his hands. How could he have trusted that woman? How did he not see what she was?

Sherlock looked at John concerned and bewildered. Sentiment really wasn’t his area, but he would learn for John.

“John, are you ok?”

“I don’t know.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has had enough with all the lies and secrecy. Sherlock just wants to make John happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay in updating. It's been crazy here! But I have the last 2 chapters of this fic. Hope you enjoy!

“How did I not see what she was, Sherlock? How did I miss something this big? Is Mary Morstan even her name? I was prepared to marry her for Christ’s sake! I’m so tired of all the people I care about lying to me. I can’t take it anymore.” John’s face had been filled with rage as he spoke, then it fell and he just looked broken.

Sherlock’s heart shattered seeing John like this. He would’ve warned John about Mary if he had known. He didn’t know how to make it better. He just knew didn't want to be the cause of anymore pain to John Watson. 

“John, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t read Mary to know who she really was. You deserve someone who loves you and can cherish you. I’m indescribably sorry that I lied to you about being dead. If I could have told you and kept you safe, I would have. I knew when I left, you may hate me forever and never forgive me. John, I’ve never been one for emotions but as much as that hurt to know that I may have had to come back to a life where you hated me, I took comfort in knowing that you would be safe. It is not a life I want, but if that was what the result was, then so be it. I don’t want to cause you anymore pain, John. Please tell me what you need from me and I will make it so. If you need me to walk out of this flat and never come back for you to find happiness, consider me gone. I can’t bear causing you moments pain.” 

Sherlock knelt in front of John, desperately trying to read his face. It took all of Sherlock’s will power not to wrap John in his arms. John lifted his face to look at Sherlock. He reached over and cupped Sherlock’s face in his hand.

“Sherlock, I forgive you. I’ll be honest, I still have a lot of feelings about the whole situation but you were willing to sacrifice everything for me. You asked me if I knew how important I am to you but do you know how important you are to me? I couldn’t hate you if I tried. Even on the darkest days after you fell, I never hated you. Sherlock, you are the most important person in the world to me. I don’t want you to ever leave this flat, leave me, again.”

Sherlock leaned into John’s hand as a tear rolled down his face. He practically melted with the feeling of relief that washed over him, he pulled John into a hug. “Thank you, John.”

John hugged Sherlock back tightly. “Sherlock, just please, don’t lie to me anymore. Whatever you have to tell me about anything, I can take it. I just can’t live with the lies and the secrets. Please, just promise me that. We will face whatever comes our way together, yeah?”

"I promise."

After embracing for a few more moments, Sherlock was the first to pull away. He smiled and wiped his eyes. “Ok, John. That's about as much sentiment as I can handle right now. Would you like a cuppa? Or something stronger?”

John chuckled. “A cuppa would be lovely, Sherlock. Thank you.”

Sherlock walked into the kitchen to make tea. He reached for the kettle while texting Mycroft telling him to arrange to have John’s belongings packed from his former flat. When Mycroft asked if he was to move the items back to Baker Street, Sherlock paused before answering. It hit him. He did still have a secret he was keeping from John. One that would ultimately impact whether or not John returned to Baker Street. Sherlock felt a lump in his throat. He wasn’t sure he was ready to share this with John but he had literally just promised not to keep anymore secrets. Well, it was now or never.

John heard Sherlock walk back into the sitting room but he hadn’t heard him made any tea. As he was turning to Sherlock, he started teasing him.

“Come on, Sherlock. I saw you make tea the other day. I know you ca-“, the look on Sherlock’s face stopped John in his tracks. “Sherlock, what's wrong? What’s happened?”

Sherlock’s face had gone paler than normal and was almost frozen in a mix of shock and fear. He looked at John.

“Mycroft is arranging to have your belongings packed from your previous flat and he asked me if he should have them delivered here.”

“Ok. Do you not want me to move back here?”

“John, I still have a secret from you. One that I never thought would see the light of day but I promised I would tell you everything. Depending on your response, you may not want to return to live here.”

John looked at Sherlock alarmed. He licked his bottom lip. He couldn’t imagine what Sherlock would have to tell him that would make him not want to return to Baker Street. 

“You can tell me anything, Sherlock.”

“I don’t know how to say what needs to be said.”

“Just let it out. We’ll sort it after.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “John, I-well-I, uhm, my feelings towards you, they are, well, they aren’t platonic. They never have been.”

John’s brow furrowed as he took in this new information, his heart pounding so hard he thought for sure it would break through his ribs. “Sherlock, you are going to need to be really clear right now. Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

“Yes, John. I’m in love with you. I have been since we met. I know you aren’t gay and don’t feel that way towards me. I have learned to live with it and I promise, I won’t be awkward about anything if you will come back and live here. You can delete it, it's fine. I'm content just to have you near by. I won’t bug you and your dates anymore either, whenever you go back to dating after this whole thing with Mary. I’m so sorry about that -” John grabbed Sherlock's arm and that broke him off from his tirade.

“You are a genius, Sherlock. You can deduce someone's entire life story by the way they knot their shoelaces, you have an incredible memory and know 243 types of ash. How could you not have been able to deduce how I feel about you? I’ve always loved you. I just never dreamed you would feel the same way.”

“There’s always something.” Sherlock smiled broadly and moved closer to John. It was impossible to tell who initiated the kiss as they were both leaning towards each other at the exact same time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Probably more an an epilogue. Just some happy, lovely fluff as our boys figure out home is where the heart is.

The kiss started slow, barely a pressing of their lips together, then it almost immediately deepened as the two finally let go of their years of denying how they felt for each other. They kissed as if their lives depended on it. They broke apart only when they needed to breath. Sherlock pulled John close to him and John rested his head on Sherlock’s chest as they both tried to catch their breath.

“Should I tell Mycroft that your belongings should be brought to Baker Street?” Sherlock smiled.

“Should we tell Mrs. Hudson that we won’t be needing the second bedroom?” John laughed.

“Mrs. Hudson already figured it out for herself,” They both jumped when they heard their landlady’s voice from the door. “It really is about time, boys. I’m so happy you both finally figured it out!”

“I knew it! I bloody knew it! It really is about bloody time.” DI Lestrade cheered from behind Mrs. Hudson.

“Greg, what are you doing here?” John asked more confused about his presence than the landlady’s. 

"After everything that happened, I was calling round to see if you were in need of a pint but seems like you are handling everything just fine.” He gestured to John and Sherlock who were still in each other’s arms. 

Sherlock and John just chuckled. They finally separated. “Well don’t just stand in the doorway you two, come in and we'll get a pot going.” John ushered them both in.

“I knew a happy announcement would be coming. I use assumed it would be sooner than this. I do hope there is cake?” Mycroft surprised them all by appearing suddenly in the doorway.

“Mycroft, what are you doing here?” Sherlock demanded.

“As ever, brother mine, I was concerned. You simply stopped responding to texts and it would appear you found the cameras again. Given you had just been kidnapped mere hours ago, you do understand my worry.”

Sherlock let out a huff while opening his arms wide as if to say, clearly I’m fine. Mycroft nodded and started to turn back towards the door.

“Oi, Mycroft,” John stopped him. “This is clearly turning into a celebration of sorts so get back in here. You’re staying for dinner. And please send a car for Molly. I think it’s high time we all got back together again.”

About half an hour later, Molly arrived looking thoroughly terrorized. She hadn’t been familiar with the Mycroft Holmes’ method of providing transportation and she was convinced she was about to be murdered. Sherlock and John both placed a kiss on either of her cheeks and thanked her for coming and for all that she had done. 

The group gathered around the kitchen table and Mrs. Hudson fussed about making tea, John ordered take away for the lot. Lestrade filled Molly in on why there was a sudden dinner party taking place at 221B. She squealed and ran over to hug John and Sherlock. As they tucked into the meal that had just arrived, they all took turns telling stories and catching up on the years that had gone past while Sherlock was gone and the no one really knew what to do with each other. Several hours and several drinks later, the crowd dispersed, leaving Sherlock and John alone together again.

“I’m exhausted, Sherlock. I’m going to head to bed. This is so strange, are you coming with me? Are we sharing a bed now?” John gave a confused but hopeful half smile.

“Obviously, John. Which room would you prefer?”

“Yours. It’s got a bigger bed and nicer sheets. It would probably be better. Let me go see if I left any pajamas here.” He jogged upstairs and came down a few minutes later in an old pair of pajama bottoms and the same undershirt he had been wearing earlier. 

Sherlock took him by the hand and led him to his bedroom, he had already changed while John got ready. They climbed into bed, John’s head resting on Sherlock’s chest while Sherlock absentmindedly run his hand up and down John’s back. 

“This has been an whirlwind of a day. First Mary turns out to be an assassin trying to kill you, you tell me you love me, than a random dinner party. I can barely wrap my head around it.”

“It has been quite a day. But, John, I do love you very much. We all do, just no one else more than me. At least I hope not.” Sherlock chuckled.

“I love you, too. We all love you, too. Definitely no one more than me. That’s our family. It would be weird.”

“Sleep now, love. You must need some sleep after everything.”

“’Night, love.” John’s eyes had already started closing as he relaxed even more onto Sherlock. He was thinking about he finally felt home. He had his love, his home, and his family. As hard as everything had been, it led him to this. He wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.   
Sherlock tightened his grasp on John, hardly believing that he had been convinced that John would never speak to him again and now they were together. Sherlock never gave much consideration to his emotions and the past few days had been a large step for him. But as John had said, they were in love and they had their family with them. As oddly pieced together as it was. Sherlock finally dozed off himself with a smile on his face.


End file.
